


Got it in One

by JoMouse



Series: TFLN [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Angst with a Happy Ending, College Student Stiles Stilinski, Crazy Peter Hale, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, M/M, Mechanic Derek Hale, Meet the Family, Misunderstandings, Past Character Death, The Hale Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 18:00:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20821484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoMouse/pseuds/JoMouse
Summary: Stiles decides to surprise his boyfriend on their one-year anniversary and gets a few surprises of his own.Based on TFLN (609): I brought coffee but not enough for the naked guy on your porch





	Got it in One

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings and salutations!
> 
> Another TFLN prompted story. I'm not even sure where this idea came from except that I really love Crazy Uncle Peter. It was supposed to be a fun and fluffy thing and then a bit of angst and backstory snuck in.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!!!
> 
> Big thanks to Marie and Jenn who are awesome cheerleaders and betas who put up with me and my whining far more often than anyone should have to do. I love you both!
> 
> xx-Joey
> 
> Don't know 'em. Don't own 'em. Don't show 'em.

Stiles looked down at his phone, double-checking the maps app for the third time before switching to his notes app to verify the address for the fifth time. His heart sank as everything pointed to him standing in front of the correct house. He juggled the drink carrier holding two large coffees and the bag containing chocolate croissants as he shifted from foot to foot, staring up at the reason for his confusion.

“It’s not even my birthday,” said the man, the very naked man, standing on the front porch of what was supposed to be his boyfriend’s house, eyeing him in a way that made Stiles extremely uncomfortable.

“And yet here you stand in your birthday suit,” Stiles retorted, his movements mirroring the man as he thumbed open his messaging app again.

“You don’t like my new clothes?” the man asked, gesturing to his body with a grand flourish and Stiles couldn’t stop the rolling of his eyes in response.

“You are definitely not an emperor,” he responded as he began to wonder if he should be calling 911 instead of sending off a quick text to his boyfriend.  _ “I brought coffee but not enough for the naked guy on your porch.” _

Within seconds of hitting send and  _ Delivered  _ changing to  _ Read _ , there was a very familiar voice shouting from within the house, “Dammit, Uncle Peter!”

The naked man tilted his head, grinning. “I believe I’m being summoned.” He tipped an invisible hat at Stiles. “It was a pleasure to meet you, young man. I hope we see each other again soon.” Then without another word he turned his naked behind on Stiles and entered the house, closing the door behind him.

Stiles stared at the door, wondering if he should knock or cut his losses and head back to campus; this is what he got for trying to be a good boyfriend and surprise Derek on their anniversary. He took a step forward and then two back before the door opened to reveal his sleep-ruffled boyfriend, shirtless and barefoot, clad only in a pair of baggy sweats that hung dangerously low for a Saturday morning at his family’s home. 

“Stiles,” Derek breathed out a sigh, glancing over his shoulder into the house before hurrying down the steps wrapping his arms around Stiles’ waist and picking him up into a hug.

“Woah! Uncoordinated spaz about to drop hot coffee!” he squealed, laughing as Derek set him down quickly, grabbing the drink carrier from Stiles in one hand. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Before he could come up with an answer, stunned by the aggravation in his boyfriend’s tone in complete opposition to the greeting, they were surrounded by a group of people, each one as good looking as his boyfriend, if not more. A woman with shoulder-length hair, streaks of grey elegantly running through brown, stepped forward, hand held out. “You must be Stiles. I’m Talia, Derek’s mother.”

“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Stiles said, taking her hand, breath hitching at the strength of her grasp, as she pulled him into the house, the rest of the family following and crowding into the large foyer.

“Talia, please.” She gestured around the room introducing the rest of Derek’s family, ending with the now-robed man standing on the stairs. “My younger brother Peter.” She leaned in to whisper in Stiles’ ear conspiratorially, “He’s a bit eccentric.”

“She means I’m battier than a belfry,” Peter corrected, laughing when his sister huffed out a curse and shook her head at him.

“You’re just in time for breakfast. Would you like to join us?” Talia asked, gesturing to a dining room table laden with enough food to feed a small army.

“I appreciate the offer, but I was hoping to borrow Derek for a few hours. I know you have your big family party tonight…” He trailed off, it had been the reason Derek had come home instead of staying at school to celebrate their one-year anniversary. They’d gotten into an argument about it the night before as Derek was leaving and that was the reason he’d shown up to surprise Derek, hoping to ease the tension between them.

“You are coming to the party, aren’t you?” Talia asked, looking at Derek, her brows furrowed in confusion in a way that reminded Stiles of her son. “Derek said you couldn’t make it because you had to study, but now that you’re here, you should stay and attend.”

“I...I didn’t realize I was invited,” Stiles stammered out at the same time Derek’s ears turned pink and he whined out, “Mom.”

Stiles stared at his boyfriend for a moment, the feeling of a stranger standing in front of him overwhelming. He couldn’t think of one good reason to stay in a house where the person he loved most outside his own family clearly didn’t want him. “You’re right. I have a ton of studying to do. This was a mistake,” Stiles said, stepping away, handing the bag of pastries to the nearest family member. “I’m sorry to interrupt family time,” he muttered before he turned and let himself out, hurrying to his Jeep where he’d left it parked.

He was in the driver’s seat, but his hand was trembling too much for him to put the key in the ignition. When they fell out of his hand, hitting the floor with a jangle, he gave up and laid his head against the steering wheel. He was breathing in for four counts and out for six when the door next to him was pulled open.

“Stiles,” Derek said, laying one hand on his back and reaching the other around to his chest, trying to guide his breathing; it wasn’t the first panic attack he’d helped Stiles through but there was a strong fear for Stiles that it would be the last. “Come back inside.”

Stiles shook his head without removing it from the wheel, his chin bumping the horn and sounding it, sending Stiles upright. His arms flailed, the left one catching Derek across the side of his head. He opened his mouth to apologize, stopping when he spotted Derek’s uncle sauntering down the driveway with a crossbow over one shoulder.

“Derek, does your Uncle Peter hunt?” he asked, pointing when Derek just stared at him.

Following his finger, Derek cursed under his breath and took off running, catching up with Peter quickly. It only took a few strides to reach him. Stiles watched as he took the crossbow easily and turned Peter back towards the house, using a hand on the small of his back to guide him until they met up with Derek’s father who took the crossbow and guided Peter the rest of the way into the house.

Stiles reached down and grabbed his keys, his hands still shaky, but he was able to get the keys into the ignition, turning them and let out a muffled scream when it clicked, the engine refused to turn over. “Of all the-” He cut himself off with another silent scream, banging his fists against the wheel.

“Hey, hey,” Derek said, voice soft. “Roscoe doesn’t like it rough.”

Stiles couldn’t hold back a snort. “Don’t think being all cute is going to make me forget that you’re ashamed of me.”

Derek reared back like he’d been struck. “Ashamed? Of  _ you? _ ” he squeaked.

Stiles’ laugh was short, bitter, pain flaring in his gut with the power of it. “What other reason could there possibly be for you to tell me that that I couldn’t come to your family’s annual party while telling them that I couldn’t come because I had to study for exams?” he asked, turning to look at him, attempting to start Roscoe at the same time and failing.

Derek shook his head, reaching across Stiles to grab his keys before moving around to the front of the Jeep and releasing the hood latches and popping it open. Propping it up, he leaned over to look at the engine. It wasn’t the first time he’d had to work under the hood of Stiles’ precious baby; they’d actually met when Roscoe had been towed into the garage where Derek worked for the first time, just over a year earlier. 

Stiles glared at Derek through the hood, feelings still smarting and his brain frantically trying to figure out how he could get back to school without a ride from Derek if there was something seriously wrong with the engine. He was about to call his father when Derek started hollering. “Dammit, Uncle Peter!” 

“I am not the droids you're looking for,” the man in question sang out from the porch where he was leaned back on the porch swing, still in his robe thankfully, one leg hanging off and pushing against the flooring to move the swing. Stiles had to hold back a smirk, grudgingly impressed by the reference.

Confused, Stiles climbed out of the Jeep, long limbs nearly pulling him to the ground as he rounded the Jeep and looked inside to see Derek reattaching the cables to his battery. “Someone sabotaged my baby?! I was only inside for five minutes, tops! What the fuck, Derek?”

“I’m gonna kill her,” Derek muttered before stepping back from the jeep, wiping his hands on his chest streaking his skin with grease. “I need to get a wrench to tighten these, murder my sister and then we need to talk,” he said, running towards the stairs, turning just before he went inside and pointing at Stiles. “Stay.”

“Woof,” Stiles muttered to the already closing door. “Where the fuck am I supposed to go?”

“Why don’t you want to come to the party?” a voice asked from behind Stiles, making him jump and whirl around, falling backwards against the Jeep. He would’ve bumped his head against the open hood if the girl in front of him hadn’t grabbed him at the last minute. 

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Cora. Derek’s little sister,” she responded, twirling a wrench in her hands, a single streak of grease on the bridge of her nose. “Which you would’ve known if you ever accepted any of my mother’s invitations to visit.”

Stiles gaped, every muscle in his jaw refusing to work to close, leaving him feeling like a complete idiot. “What invitations?” 

Cora narrowed her eyes at Stiles, forcing him to debate crawling into the engine and pulling the hood closed over him. “That asshole,” she hissed before turning on her heel and heading towards the house, shouting for her mother at the top of her lungs, dropping the wrench on the sidewalk as she went.

“Is everyone in this family crazy?” Stiles muttered, running a hand through his hair and checking the Uber app on his phone while trying to calculate how much it would cost for a ride back to campus.

“Just me,” Peter spoke up from directly behind him, causing him to jump and let out a squeak, a very manly sounding squeak if anyone asked. 

Stiles whirled around on him, hand pressed to his heart. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Peter shrugged a shoulder, handing him the wrench Cora had dropped. “You can come in, if you like,” he offered as he went up the steps.

Stiles considered the offer, even though he was crazy, Peter seemed to be a nice guy, but he shook his head, placing a hand on his Jeep. “I’ll stay right here and make sure none of the rest of you mess with my baby.”

“Your loss,” Peter said as he picked up a potted cactus from the front porch and cradled it in his arms, talking to it as he entered the house. “My baby likes going in the house, doesn’t he? Yes, yes he does. We’ll just leave mean old Stiles outside.”

Kicking Roscoe’s front tire, he yelped as he jumped up and down cursing himself and apologizing to the Jeep. Derek grabbed him by the arm, causing him to stumble and drop the wrench on his other foot. Letting out a screech, he bounced from foot to foot, not sure which one hurt more. Talia appeared in front of him, a fond smile on her face, as she took him gently by the arm and guided him up the steps before settling him onto the porch swing before disappearing into the house.

She reappeared within a couple of minutes, a large ice pack in her hands. Sitting next to Stiles, she pulled his feet into her lap, pulled his shoes off and laying the ice pack over the tops of his feet. All of this was done before Stiles could get his wits back and object. “Now that you can’t go anywhere, can we talk?” she asked, patting the ice pack gently.

Letting out a sigh, he shot a dirty look at Derek’s back where he was already bent over the engine, arm moving with the wrench, muscles obviously tense even from a distance. “Alright,” Stiles told her, smiling tightly.

Turning her head to the side, she spoke firmly toward the front door. “Everyone who’s being a Nosey Nancy can go to the other end of the house.” There was the sound of grumbling and scuffling from inside. “That especially includes you, dear brother.” A solid thud came against the door before Peter started grumbling, voice fading as stomping footsteps echoed up the stairs and Stiles had to smile at that childish reaction, knowing he'd have done the same.

They remained quiet, watching Derek working on the Jeep and closing the hood, shoving the wrench into his back pocket and then coming up onto the porch. He started to head inside, but his mother spoke his name, stopping him. “Derek, I have a feeling you need to be a part of this conversation.”

Huffing, Derek moved to lean back against the railing across from the swing, arms crossed and scowl on his face, looking like a stubborn child; the trait must run in the family and Stiles wondered what else did.. Stiles pressed his lips together to hide a smile. “Mom, I can-”

“Derek, tell me the truth, have you extended my invitations for Stiles to come meet us?” she asked, eyes hard and voice firm. Derek looked up at her and then at Stiles through his lashes before shaking his head in the negative. “Can you tell me why?”

Stiles snorted. “Isn’t it obvious?” he snapped, cutting off anything Derek had to say. Both of the Hales turned to look at him, Derek’s eyes widened in surprise while Talia looked curious, gesturing for him to continue. “He’s ashamed of me. I’m good enough to hang out with at school, but anywhere else, forget it.” He choked out the last few words as he thought back over all the times Derek had gone to see Stiles’ dad or hung out with his friends. “Hell, I probably wouldn’t even have met his friends if Erica hadn’t stolen Derek’s phone and hunted me down.”

Derek opened his mouth to argue but snapped it shut at a hard glare from his mother. She turned to Stiles, thoughtful. “Stiles-” she started but was interrupted by her husband appearing on the porch.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but Peter’s gone missing,” he said with the sigh of someone who has ‘been there done that’ a few too many times.

She muttered something under her breath, moving Stiles’ feet to the swing, readjusting the ice pack before pointing at Derek “Go check the library. Take Cora with you. Laura will go with your brother to check the diner. Your father and I will drive around town.” Once everyone was mobilized, people pouring out of the house and receiving orders from Talia, she turned to Stiles. “Stay put,” she directed and Stiles crossed his arms over his chest and gave her a defiant look. 

With a smirk, she grabbed his tennis shoes and walked off the porch, turning at the last moment and throwing the shoes onto the porch roof, where they landed with a soft thud followed by a strange sound. Stiles turned his eyes up towards the ceiling above him as Talia hurried to the car where her husband waited. “Text Derek if Peter comes back to the house,” she called to him as she climbed in, the door barely shut as Derek’s father squealed the tires and pulled out of the driveway.

Once the Hales were all gone, Stiles counted to ten and then called out, “They’re all gone, Peter. You can come down and bring my shoes.” There was a shuffling sound above him and then a pair of bare feet and calves appeared over the edge of the roof. “But only if you have clothes on!” he added frantically.

Peter chuckled and dropped to the ground, dressed in khaki shorts and navy blue henley. “You’re not as much fun as Derek said you were.” He tossed Stiles’ shoes at him, laughing when he fumbled them and they fell to the porch with a double thud.

Stiles snorted as Peter settled on the floor next to the swing, leaning back against it, his arms stretched across the seat, one hand fiddling with the edges of the ice pack. “You think Derek is ashamed of his relationship with you.” It wasn’t a question, Peter must have heard him say nearly the same thing moments earlier, so Stiles kept quiet, relaxing against the arm of the swing. 

He debated texting Derek about Peter when the man spoke up again. “You’re double majoring in Criminal Justice and International Folklore; strange combination, I must confess. You’ve been on the Dean’s List every semester except for one when you had to take incompletes in all of your courses to go home and care for your father who had been shot in the line of duty. Your entire life, you’d dreamed of joining the FBI, but have decided to return to your home town and join the Sheriff’s Department to hopefully take over for your father, the Sheriff, when he retires.” He tilted his head back to look at Stiles, chuckling at his wide eyes and gaping mouth. “Shut that or you’ll swallow a fly.” Stiles snapped his mouth shut. “Should I continue? I can if you like.”

Stiles shook his head. “Did you run a background check on me?” He knew his father had run one on Derek when things had gotten serious, but Stiles refused to look at it, wanting to learn everything from Derek himself when he was ready. Thankfully, his father had respected his wishes and even refrained from veiled comments.

Peter chuckled. “All of that information, and so much more, was provided ad nauseam by someone who knows you very well and loves talking about you.”

“Derek?” Stiles squeaked, mind burning as he tried to process the information.

“You have to wonder, if he’s so ashamed of  _ you _ , why does he never stop talking about you?” With that, Peter stood up, sliding his bare feet into Stiles’ shoes and stepped off the porch. “I believe I’ll go meet Laura and Edward, those are two of Derek’s siblings if you didn’t know, at the diner. I could go for some pie.”

Stiles stared at his phone for a good five minutes before it buzzed in his hands. It was a message from an unknown number to a group chat that included himself and Derek.  _ Peter’s at the diner. Gonna have some pie and then head home. _ There was an influx of responses, but Stiles ignored them since the only number that he recognized was Derek’s. He’d just texted:  _ See you at the house. _

Picking up the ice pack, he sat up and walked into the house, surprised and slightly touched they’d left the door unlocked with a total stranger on the porch. He glanced up the stairs and saw the wall lined with photos. Curiosity about Derek as a young boy welled up and he put his foot on the first step. He counted fifteen steps and at least twice as many framed photos lining the wall in a disarray that looked thought out. 

The first set of photos were black and white, faded and creased. There was a wedding photo of a woman who looked similar to Talia and a man with thick eyebrows like Derek’s. As he moved up the stairs, time moved with him until he found Derek’s high school graduation picture, wide smiles on the faces of the entire family. He tried to pick out the siblings, but found he didn’t even know for sure how many Derek had. He did see Uncle Peter, looking handsome and open, quite sane actually, with his arm wrapped around the shoulders of a petite redhead.

He took another step up, noticing the frames were more spaced out, the smiles less open. There were no more photos of the redheaded woman and only one included Peter who looked unkempt with a haunted look in his eyes. He wondered what had happened to the woman and if her absence explained the change in Peter as he reached the top of the stairs, discovering that the timeline of photos extended down the hallway. He kept going, eyes tracing the photos, wondering at the faces he saw, so many questions coming to mind. His heart ached with the knowledge that Derek didn’t share his family, even the smallest part of their history, with Stiles and he couldn’t even think of a reason why. Despite Peter’s words, a part of him still felt like he was ashamed of them, of their relationship.

He was ready to leave, shoes or no shoes, but he was stopped by a set of photos hung between a bedroom painted blue and grey and a green bathroom. There were five photos there, one in the center and a smaller one at each corner. The largest, the one that had caught his eye, was familiar to him; it was the lockscreen on his phone. It was Derek and Stiles, faces pressed together and crazy grins on their faces as they stood on a bridge just before doing a pairs bungee jump while on vacation in Arizona around three months after they’d started dating. 

His eyes traced over the other photos, each of them was one that he knew well. The induction dinner for the honor society Stiles was President of, the picnic for the LGBTQ+ group on campus, the two of them in the back of Roscoe at a drive-in movie, and one of them with Stiles’ dad and friends at Stiles’ birthday party a couple of months ago. He reached out and ran his fingers over Derek’s smile, startling when arms wrapped around his waist from behind.

“You didn’t leave,” he whispered against the back of his neck.

“Peter stole my shoes.” He smiled when he felt Derek’s chest rumble with a quiet chuckle. “‘Crazy Uncle Peter’ isn’t just an endearing family nickname, is it?”

Derek sighed before resting his chin on Stiles’ shoulder, squeezing his waist a bit tighter as if afraid he would break free or disappear. “No. He’s always been quirky, but he never recovered from Aunt Simone’s death.”

“Was she ill?” Stiles asked, laying his hands over Derek’s.

“No,” Derek bit out. “She was killed by a drunk driver.” It comes to mind Derek’s hypervigilance of sobriety levels and many nights spent picking up drunk friends from parties. He took a deep breath, his chest expanding against Stiles’ back. “My uncle was the drunk driver.”

Turning in his arms, Stiles ducked his head to look Derek in his eyes. “Then he has every reason to have lost his mind,” he stated firmly. 

“He wasn’t the same after his jail sentence, a too short one according to him. He’s been arrested for being a public nuisance more times than I can count since,” Derek explained. “We spend more time keeping him out of jail than anything else.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes as he ran the words through his head. “Do you think that’s what he wants? Not for you all to be spending so much time keeping him out of trouble, but maybe to go back to jail, to serve the time he thinks he deserves for his wife’s death?”

Derek opened and closed his mouth a few times finally snapping it shut when Peter’s voice came from down the hallway. “I like this one. He’s smart. Much better than that bitch you brought home last time,” he said before disappearing into a room and pushing the door shut behind him.

“Bitch?” Stiles questioned.

“We need to talk,” Derek said, releasing Stiles but holding a hand out to him, a hopeful look in his eyes.

Carefully placing his hand in Derek’s, Stiles pointed out, “Nothing good ever came from a conversation that started that way.”

He led Stiles into the blue and grey bedroom and sat on the foot of the bed, tugging Stiles to sit next to him. “Let’s hope there’s a first time for everything.” Playing with Stiles’ fingers that were twined through his own, Derek’s lips moved silently for a few moments before he continued.

“My family has always been really close, ridiculously close probably.” He looked at Stiles then. “I don’t think I ever thought it was that unusual. I got teased a bit in high school, but it didn’t matter to me. My Aunt Simone always told me that I was lucky to have the family I did; she was an orphan who grew up bouncing from group home to group home until she aged out of the system.”

“That had to be rough,” Stiles sympathized, thinking about all of the kids his father would tell him about having to turn over to child services for one reason or another. Heck, his family was mostly found family, the only blood relative that he had any actual contact with being his father. Now that he knew just how big Derek’s family was, and how close, he can’t help but feel even more slighted for Derek having not wanted to introduce him.

“I can’t even imagine,” Derek murmured. Stiles ducked his head and studied his face; eyes closed and bunny teeth digging into his lower lip. Taking a deep breath, he looked up, blinking rapidly when their eyes met. “My freshman year, I met a woman, she was around twenty-five.” Stiles immediately thought of the age difference between himself and Derek. “I fell hard and fast for her. I couldn’t wait to introduce her to my family. I told her all about them and them all about her.”

Stiles could feel his lips curling up in a sneer, hatred for this unknown woman flaring through him. He bit back every nasty comment that sprang to his mind, knowing they wouldn’t help the situation. “I can tell how much you hate me right now,” Derek whispered, closing his eyes before dropping his head, trying to pull his hand away. Stiles almost let him, but held on instead.

“I brought her home for Christmas that year. I was so excited,” he said. “My family greeted us at the doorway, all of them. Kind of like today.”

“A bit overwhelming,” Stiles admitted.

Derek nodded. “She leaned in and whispered loudly, ‘Don’t they have lives?’” Stiles couldn’t hold back the epitaph, but slapped a hand over his mouth and nodded for Derek to continue. “It just got worse from there. The woman I was in love with was nowhere to be found that weekend. As soon as we were in the car on the way back to campus, she was back to what I thought was normal. I convinced myself she’d just been nervous about meeting my family.”

“What happened?” Derek glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Well, clearly you aren’t still together.”

“Aunt Simone died. Her funeral was the same day as a weekly family dinner for Kate, that was her name.”

“And you went to the funeral,” Stiles said and Derek shrugged. “What does that mean?”

Derek pushed himself to stand and crossed the room to the window, Stiles letting this hand slip out of his grip. “When I told her about the funeral, I thought she’d offer to go with me, instead she screamed at me. Told me if I didn’t go to the dinner with her then I must not really love her.”

“If she loved you, she would’ve offered to go to the funeral,” Stiles muttered and Derek turned with a sad smile.

“That’s what  _ you _ would’ve done,” Derek told him.

“That’s what any decent person would’ve done,” Stiles declared, rising and joining Derek at the window, leaning against his side, smiling slightly when Derek linked their hands together.

“When I told her that I was going to the funeral, that I had to put my family first, that I needed to be there, she spit out absolute vitriol about my family. She called them manipulative and controlling. She actually said they planned the funeral just to ruin the dinner.” Derek’s shoulders shuddered. “She just kept going and I stood there and listened to her, let her poison my brain against my family. I almost missed the funeral.”

“But you didn’t,” Stiles said, not a question. “You went and she left.” Derek nodded. Stiles closed his eyes and gave into the urge to gather Derek against him. “As far as I can tell, things are good with your family now, right?” Derek nodded against his shoulder. 

“I’ve wanted you to meet my family and my friends since the day you came into the garage,” Derek admitted, voice so low that Stiles almost missed it. “I was just so afraid you would feel like she would. She never stopped keeping me from them or complaining about them after that visit.”

Stiles grasped Derek by the shoulders and pushed him back, ducking his head to look him in the eye, only to find them closed. “Look at me. C’mon, Der-bear,” he teased, smirking when Derek looked up to glare at him for the banned nickname.

“I am not her,” he affirmed. “Don't have the same parts and definitely don’t have the same self-centered mindset. You know how important my father is to me, do you think I would  _ ever  _ keep someone from their family? Especially when they needed them?” Derek shook his head. “We’ve been together for a year. That’s twelve weekends you’ve come home to see your family and I’ve never said anything because I knew they were important to you. I got up at the ass crack of the morning to drive here just to spend an hour with you so that I wouldn’t interfere with your family’s plans, but still get to see you.”

He shook Derek when he didn’t react. “If I’d showed up and you’d told me to leave, I would’ve. I would’ve been hurt, but I would’ve done it. Instead, I got to meet your family and find out they’ve wanted to meet me.”

“My family is crazy,” Derek warned. 

“No shit, Sherlock,” Stiles muttered. “But so am I. And if I didn’t run away screaming when Erica dropped herself into my lap five minutes after meeting me and asking to be in a threesome with us, I’m definitely not going to run away from an eccentric uncle with a self-flagellation problem and a group of people who love you as much as I do.”

“You love me?” Derek asked hopefully, ducking when Stiles rolled his eyes. “You  _ still _ love me?”

“Absolutely!” Stiles practically screamed, shaking Derek again.

Derek’s eyes took on a faraway gleam before they focused and he gave a definitive nod. “Good, then Stiles would you like to have dinner with my family tonight and stay the weekend?”

“I’d love to,” he responded, both of their smiles too big to qualify what happened next as a kiss.

“So, everything’s all good now?” Cora asked, interrupting their moment. They nodded at her and she pushed away from the door frame where she’d been leaning. “Then come downstairs. Breakfast is long ruined, so Mom’s set out something resembling brunch and I’m starving.”

They followed her down the stairs, Stiles smiling at the laughter coming from the dining room. “Are you really all going to eat again?” he asked when he saw Peter with a large plate of food in front of him.

“Pie is merely an appetizer,” Peter told him as he wrapped an arm around his plate and swatted at a woman who was trying to grab a piece of bacon off of it. “Back off, Laura,” he snarled, actually snarled, at her.

“Your sister,” Stiles whispered to Derek who nodded and led him to the chair across from Peter, pulling it out so Stiles could sit before taking the one next to him.

“Now that you’re here and joining us,” Talia spoke up from the head of the table where she was squashed in next to her husband. Stiles narrowed his eyes and saw they were sharing a chair and that made him smile. She gestured around the table, introducing each person by name and how they were related to Derek. Stiles’ head was spinning by the time he was done, even though he’d heard the names earlier he still couldn’t keep track.

“If there’s a quiz later, I’m screwed,” Stiles whispered to Derek who threw his head back and laughed, joined by the rest of his family, warmth filling Stiles’ chest as he observed.

The rest of the day followed in much the same manner, lots of food and laughter. There was only one more incident of Peter disappearing, but Stiles found him sitting in the back of his Jeep, a blanket thrown over his head. “I’m not helping you escape,” Stiles told him, chuckling at the pout that Peter gave him which quickly grew into a smile when he promised to pick him up and take him to the campus one day.

It was nearly dark when Talia let out a shrill whistle, calling the family out onto the front porch, a camera set up on a tripod in the middle of the walkway, Derek’s brother Edward fiddling with it. “Family picture time,” Talia announced.

“I can take it,” Stiles offered.

“How are you going to do that?” Edward asked.

“Um, press the button on the camera and wait for the flash to go off?” Stiles said, looking at everyone who was staring at him, amusement on their faces.

“There’s a timer,” Edward explained.

“Oh. Well, then I’ll just go stand by the Jeep,” he said, taking a step off the porch and being yanked backwards by Cora, a strong arm wrapped around his neck.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Talia asked, removing Cora’s arm to have it replaced by Derek’s while Talia hooked an arm through Stiles’ and Cora sat on the steps in front of him.

“It’s a family photo,” Stiles pointed out, brow creasing when everyone chuckled.

“And what exactly do you think you are?” Peter asked, resting his chin on Stiles’ shoulder closest to Talia.

“Family?” Stiles squeaked, blinking back the dampness that sprung to his eyes as Edward started a countdown and darted forward to sit on the steps next to Cora.

“Got it in one,” Derek whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek just as the flash went off.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say 'hi' on tumblr (or send me a TFLN you'd like to see me tackle for Ziam or Sterek)! I'm josjournal there!


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